


Illness

by Alanna_Z



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brotherly Love, Gen, Illness, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 11:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7682599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alanna_Z/pseuds/Alanna_Z
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Germany is carrying a secret from his brothers: He is very sick. He doesn't want his brother to know, but he breaks down at the fall of the Berlin wall, and Prussia is going to fret to no end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

    Germany groaned deep in his throat, feeling another bout of vomit work its way up his throat. It burned as his stomach twisted sharply in his guts, sending vomit and blood hurling from his lips. His entire body trembled with tension and pain as he sat down on his knees, with blood and vomit dripping from his lips. He gasped for breath, and his back ached with numerous bruises as he curled over the porcelain bowl.

    His body shuttered again and another bout escaped him.

    The German sighed and wiped his mouth wipe a clean towel. He took a few deep breaths and regained himself before swallowing back the sticky taste in his mouth.

    This was his constant struggle, day in and day out, ever since the war. 

    He pushed his slowly deteriorating body up and onto his feet. His knees wobbled under his weight, weak and making it a struggle to stand, let alone walk. One buckled and he fought to stand back up. 

    This couldn’t happen. Not today. 

    Today was far too important, and he couldn’t take a sick day. He has to compose himself; he couldn’t look weak and sickly on his day, especially not in front of his brothers. Never in front of his brothers.

    The blonde swallowed back another lump in his throat, tasting copper on his tongue and quickly brushed his teeth to destroy the taste. He had to be quick. He had to get ready before another pain struck him and knocked him back to his knees. He started up the shower, allowing the steam to bathe his screaming lungs as the warm water tried to ease the purple-black bruises that littered his pale skin.

    The war had done horrid things to him, leaving him in the worst shape he had ever been in. He always found his teeth grinding into one another whenever he moved, particularly when he rolled his rifle shoulder. It was nearly ruined from all the kicks it took from his rifle. It caused him the most trouble, except for the blood vomiting.

    Ludwig slicked back his hair and slipped his thinned body into his General’s Uniform. He adjusted his tie, his hand trembling and his body sweating, with his body unable to take the strain, and unable to support his own weight. But he had to hold himself together and put on a brave face, just for a few hours.

    Only for a few hours…


	2. Chapter 2

    The German nation rubbed his temples in exhaustion, feeling a small tremor run up his spine.

    “Not now…”

    “Ludwig?” His older brother, Hesse, murmured, laying a hand on Ludwig’s shoulder. “You okay?”

    Germany nodded and swallowed hard. “Ja, fine.”

    Hesse’s blonde eyebrows furrowed. “Ludwig…”

    The younger blonde sighed. “Bitte, Nicklaus, I’m fine.”

    Hesse eased up slowly, his blue eyes narrowed on his younger brother. “After.”

    Ludwig waved him off. “Ja, ja.”

    “West!”

    The call came so fast and so suddenly that Germany had barely any time to push through the crowd to meet his brother head on. He latched on to the albino and held the shorter nation tightly. His cheeks were gaunt and his lips were almost pale as his skin. He was also worn and bruises, signs of abuse and mistreatment were rampant on his skin.

    Ludwig immediately noticed how much weight his older brother had lost, and it showed in his face 

    “Oh, Gott sei Danke!” Germany cried, squeezing Prussia tight. “You’re alright!”

    Gilbert laughed and was nearly crushed by his baby brother’s bear. He felt warm again, after so many years in freezing Russia, and he curled into Ludwig’s bother warmth.

    Saxony, Anhalt and Brandenburg soon emerged from the gates as well, looking just as bad as Prussia did. Their faces were gaunt and thin, and bruises covered their arms. But Germany’s family was whole again and all were safe, and that was all that mattered. Tears streaked down the blonde’s cheek, sprinkling Prussia’s dirty coat while holding him tighter, unwilling to let go. 

    As Ludwig’s demeanour crumpled, so did his body. He was suddenly sick to his stomach and the colour drained from his face. His hands started to tremble and he clutched at Prussia for comfort. 

    “Ludwig?” Prussia whispered, leaning back. “You okay?”

    Germany looked down on the shorter German nation. “Hm?”

    “You’re pale,” Gilbert murmured, feeling the blonde’s forehead as his face scrunched up in worry. “Und you’re burning up.”

    Ludwig pulled away. “I’m fine.”

    Hesse shoved through the crowd and came to their side. “What’s wrong?”

    Gilbert pursed his lips. “He’s running a high fever.”

    Hesse was immediately in Ludwig’s face, replacing Gilbert, and laid a hand on the youngest’s forehead. 

    “Scheiße!” He cried, pulling his hand away. “You’re like an oven!”

    German swallowed, tasting blood in the back of his throat. His arms pricked with nervous energy as his skin broke out into gooseflesh and his stomach leapt into his throat. 

    “Brüder, bitte,” he plead, raising his hands in defence. “I’m fine. Really.”

    “Stop pestering the poor boy,” A tall, lean man announced. His long, golden hair was pulled back and braided down his back. “His ears are red enough,” Franconia smiled at Ludwig and hugged his shoulders gently.

    “Feel his forehead, Heinrich,” Nicklaus protested, gesturing to Germany.

    The older German sighed, and did as requested of him. His eyes went wide as he stared at the baby of the family and blinked in disbelief. “Gott…”

    Germany knew he was done for. Three of his brothers had noticed his fever, and the knowledge would soon spread like confer through the rest. There was no going back, and no way to dig himself out. His stomach twisted as he back away from the three, feeling a tickle of a cough in the back of his throat.

    “I need to get him home,” Prussia muttered and grabbed Ludwig’s arm.

    “Nein, Bruder,” Ludwig protested, tugging away from the albino. “I’m fine.”

    “You’re whiter than me, West!” Prussia snapped. “Come on!”

    Germany slumped and coughed, sending blood splattering across his handkerchief. He bit his lip, trying to retrain the tickle in his throat. He couldn’t hold it for long and coughed harder, his face going green and blood stained the thin snow around his shoes. 

    “Get him in the car!” Bavaria’s voice boomed out. “Go!”

    Ludwig couldn’t remember when his knees gave out, but the next thing he recalled was Hesse and Prussia scooping him up by the arms and half-dragged him to Bavaria’s new BMW. His coughing persisted, blood and phlegm escaping him and landing in the white snow like violent paint splats.

    “Where’s the bullet?” Bavaria bellowed, slamming the driver’s door of the car. 

    “There… there is none,” Germany croaked between gasps. He entire body began to tremble in pain as multiple new bruises formed on his skin from internal bleeding. His hands were suddenly cold and mottled and his stomach churned hard. He felt the bile in his throat, burning and gagging him. His trembling hand fumbled with the door handle until it opened and he vomited onto the street. 

    “Good Gott!” Prussia cried out, staring at his baby brother with utter shock. His ruby eyes wandered up to Saxony and Bavaria in the front seat, his mouth hanging open. “What’s happening to him?”

    After a few quick pants and a groan, Ludwig leaned back into his seat in the car and lolled his head on the headrest. His eyelids felt heavy, even though his entire body was thrumming with tremors and shivers. He couldn’t hold on for much longer, and let himself slip.


	3. Chapter 3

    Germany woke slowly, wrapped in cotton sheet and multiple comforters. He shifted gently, feeling the folds of his linen shirt peel away from his warm skin and hie trousers roll up his stiffened legs. 

    “Guten Morgen Sleeping Beauty,” A rough hand moved through his matted hair and rubbed his shoulder. 

    The German licked his dry lips and peeked open his tired eyes. 

    “Lippe?” he croaked, sitting up in the bed and ignoring the pain ripping through his muscles. He groaned softly and gritted his teeth.

    The older country sighed and gave a sad smile as he stroked Ludwig’s golden hair. “Hey there Babybruder. Wie bist du gefühl?”

    Ludwig shrugged stiffly. “I’ve been better.”

    The blonde in front of him nodded solemnly, his long, way hair swaying with the movement. “Ja, we’re all pretty frantic right now.”

    Germany’s eyebrows furrowed together. “All?”

    Lippe chuckled. “We’re all here, little one. Every single one of you’re brothers.”

    “Linus, I…”

    “Hush,” Lippe murmured. “You’re probably hungry und sick of your clothes.”

    A smile smile cracked Ludwig’s lips. “Ja.”

    “Plus Franconia wants to get a good look at you.”

    “What does that mean?”

    “A physical,” Linus restated. “We  _know_ you’re not well, Ludwig. Don’t play stupid with us.”

    Germany sighed and began to unbutton his shirt. “I just don’t want you all to worry,” he murmured, shrugging  the soiled shirt from his broad shoulders. “It’s just an illness.”

    Linus’ face scrunched into a scowl. “What did I just tell you? Spielen nicht doof, Ludwig.”

    “I’m serious, Lippe,” Ludwig shot back. “I don’t want you to worry, especially after Holy Rome.”

    “Halt dein klamp, Ludwig!” Lippe bellowed. “That is a subject not to be broached.”

    “But I don’t want you all to think I’ll end up the same way he did!” Ludwig protested. “I’m not that weak!” He forcefully shoved his wrinkled trousers to the floor, exposing his typical German flag boxers.

    “You don’t understand the reason behind the worry, Germany,” Linus murmured.

    “But I’m not weak!”

    Lippe shot up, his blue eyes blazing. “Enough Ludwig!” You are in the same state Holy Rome was in and you  _are_ weak! Now, no more of this!”

    He stormed from the room, fuming and cursing, and leaving Ludwig even more confused and frustrated.

    Why were they so worried? He wasn’t going to end up like Holy Rome. He wasn’t going to allow himself to sink to the point of no return. It was going to be harder with his brothers swarming him with their constant worry. It was smothering and he just couldn’t handle it. 

    There was a sudden crash from the hall and the blonde sighed. 

    “Wow, you really pissed him off,” a smooth voice observed. “What did you do?”

    Ludwig grumbled and sat himself in on one of the chair around the fire.

    Oldenburg sighed. “Ludwig… Please don’t make this difficult.”

    “It’s you whose making this difficult.” Ludwig growled.

    Oldenburg sighed and sat down behind the young country. “Germany, please understand that we love you very much, und we want to help you.”

    “I don’t need any help,” The German Nation hissed. “I just want to run my country and focus of the people in the East.”

    Boris gave a hefty sigh. “And how can you do that when you’re weak?”

    Germany glared at his older brother from the corner of his eye and growled between his gritted teeth. “I. Am.  _Not._  Weak.”

    “You are, Ludwig,” Boris calmly explained. “The disunity between us brothers has always made us sick. Plus you took the brunt of the war.”

    “It was nothing,” The younger German dismissed, staring back into the hearth. “I didn’t much mind to fight for mein Brüder.”

    “You’re body is saying otherwise,” Boris pointed out.

    “Dann es ist ein doof,” Germany grumbled. “It’ll fade.”

    Oldenburg sighed. “Ludwig… please. Do this for us.”

    Germany flexed his now, his mind deep in thought, mulling everything over as his icy blue eyes watched the dancing flames. 

    “I won’t end up like Holy Rome,” Germany finally whispered.

    “Ludwig, we know. Just please, let’s not talk about this,” Boris plead, and leaned forward in his chair.

    “But–“

    Oldenburg pressed a trimmed finger to Germany’s lips. “Nein, no more. Verstehst du, ja?”

    Ludwig sighed and nodded slowly.

    “Danke schön.”

    Another crash came from the hall.

    “Christ’s sake, Linus!” Bavaria boomed. “Sersiouly! That was the ficken good china!”

    Boris sighed and his shoulders drooped. “That’s my que.” He pushed himself to his feet and took his leave in silence. 

    Ludwig sighed and relaxed into his armchair. He sat alone, frowning to himself and wondering if her would ever get the full story from his brothers.

    Suddenly, his body began to shiver with cold and his skin mottled. Pain tingled down his legs as his heart pumped slower, as if his blood was made of syrup, and his stomach twisted hard, making him feel sicker.

    He leaned forward and reached for a warm blanket before easing back into his chair and groaned. His body shook and sickened, craving warmth and relief.

    “You’re not looking so good, West.”

    “Ja,” Germany moaned. “I know.”

    Prussia sighed and came to mess up his little brother’s hair. “Hang in there.”

    “What about the people, Gilbert?” Ludwig whispered. “Who will look after them?”

    “Saxony will help me with most of it,” Prussia soothed. “We’ll take good care of them.”

    Ludwig nodded and pulled the blanket around him closer.

    “Here.” The albino handed him a cup full of broth. 

    The blonde took a long sip, shivering as the warm travelled down his throat.

    Gilbert sighed, stroking Germany’s golden locks. “Aw, West.”

    “This is what happens when the Allies tear us apart,” Ludwig joked and took another sip.

    A sad smile graced his brother’s lips. “Ja…”

    Germany took another sip and felt his eyelids grow heavy. He yawned and curled further into himself under the warmth of his blanket. 

    “Hey,” Prussia murmured, shaking the blonde’s shoulder gently. “You can’t fall asleep until Franconia gets a look at you.”

    “You’re the one who drugged me,” Ludwig slurred.

    Gilbert furrowed his white brows. “You tasted it, didn’t you?”

    The blonde nodded, his head lolling slightly.

    The albino sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Good Gott. Franconia,” he called out into the hall. “We better get this over with quick.”

    “Alright,” A voice yelled from the hall. “Bring him in here.”

    “Come on Ludwig,” Prussia urged, hoisting his little brother up by his weakened arm. “Up we go.”

    Germany groaned and stumbled to his feet. He swayed, his head light, as Prussia steadied him. His stomach twisted, threatening to send him over the edge as he is head laid in his hand.

    “Mein Gott.”

    “Come on West,” Gilbert soothed, and tugged on his arm. He escorted his little brother over to the next room a few doors down the hall.

    The room was bright and white with sterile light. The young country squinted in the harsh light and sighed heavily as he covered his eyes and sat down on the bed on the adjacent wall.  He rubbed his eyes a few times, his face scrunching into a scowl and then glared at the albino in front of him.

    Gilbert bit his lip. “Sorry West.”

    “This will only take a moment,” Franconia murmured, coming into the room a few doors down the hall.

    The room was bright and white with sterile light. The young country squinted in the harsh light and sighed heavily as he covered his eyes and sat down on the bed on the adjacent wall.  He rubbed his eyes a few times, his face scrunching into a scowl and then glared at the albino in front of him.

    Gilbert bit his lip. “Sorry West.”

    “This will only take a moment,” Franconia murmured, coming into the room dressed in teal scrubs. His blue-grey eyes looked at Ludwig with horrid concern as he winced inwardly at his little brother’s state. 

        Germany shivered, suddenly cold and missing the warmth of the fire. He swallowed back the sick feeling in his throat, slumping over as heavy pants huffed from his lungs. His temperature dropped quickly as his body trembled.     

    “Go get him some pyjamas, Gil,” Hendrich whispered cooly. “Und warm them up please.”

    The albino nodded and took his leave. 

    Franconia sighed, draping a blanket over the sickly blonde’s shoulders. “Germany…” He gently took his little brother’s hands in his own and frowned. “Sheiße, du bist kalt.”

    Ludwig nodded slowly. “Ja.” He curled his hands gently, feeling his fingers ache, and frowned. 

    His older brother’s lips twitched down and he quickly did the examination; taking Ludwig’s temperature, looking down his throat, checked his eyes and looked in his ears. Then, the lean man sat down beside his sick little brothers.

    Ludwig curled into him, craving his brother’s warmth.

    “Hush,” Franconia murmured, his voice shaking. He brushed the golden hair from Germany’s  eyes and held him close. “Little Ludwig…”

    “Franconia…” Ludwig murmured weakly, trying to keep his brother’s mind off of the situation. “Why did you become a doctor?”

    A quiet chuckle came from his brother’s mouth. “Because I was tired of killing people. Besides, someone has to be the family doctor with all of you guys starting wars.”

    Ludwig snorted. “Ja… I guess.”

    Hendrich snorted softly as well tightened his grip. His tone suddenly changed to one of melancholy and reminiscence. “You look so much like Vater…”

    “Was?”

    “Gilbert never told you? You look so much like Vater that it’s scary. I see his stern face in certain expressions of yours und you carry yourself in the same manner.” Hendrich swallowed tightly and blinked tears from his eyes. “You just so much like him… Und you look so much like  _him_ , too.”

    “Franconia,” Gilbert murmured, suddenly back in the room, Ludwig’s warmed night clothes in his hands. “Let’s just… not.”  
  
    Ludwig noted the pain in Prussia’s voice and in his ruby eyes. It was heavily mixed with guilt and Ludwig felt the tension rise. He was plunged into a sea of guilt and tension and was nearly suffocated.

    He coughed, catching Gilbert’s attention, and quickly dressed. He stumbled back to his room and fell into bed, his stomach sick and a hard ache in his bones.

    He closed his eyes and sunk.


	4. Chapter 4

    Ludwig coughed blood as Gilbert frowned down upon him. 

    “What?” the blonde snapped. “Did you think it would go away in a day?”

    The albino sighed and brushed back the bangs of Germany’s loose hair. So much worry filled the albino, swallowing his heart almost completely as he watched over the country he had raised. There couldn’t be  another Holy Rome incident. Never again would he allow that to happen.

    “Gott, it’s cold,” Ludwig murmured, retreating back under the covers and drawing them to up his chin.

    Gilbert sighed and tucked in his brother. He restocked the fire and headed out into the hall.

    Germany sighed in relief. The pressure was killing him. His brothers’ overreactions and “cautionary” implements were driving him crazy. He couldn’t leave him room, unless instructed, and his brothers were  _really_  getting on his nerves. They were getting more irritating by the second.

    Germany needed a breather; he needed a smoke.

    It wasn’t a habit he was particularly fond of, but had picked it up in WWII. Even then he didn’t smoke much, if at all, among his men, but partook when an officer offered him one or if he was  _seriously_ stressed.

    Now was one of those times.

    The German pushed himself up, ignoring so much pain, and shivered at the sudden cold. He forced himself out of bed, forgetting the tremors running down his legs and the dull ache in his skull, and grabbed a blanket to use as a shall.

    He then turned to his night stand and rummaged through his drawer, searching for his small tin. He tuck it into his breast pocket and turned to head out.

    He snuck out, weaving through the halls of the big house and always checking over his shoulder. But it was make easy by the huge argument that was happening in the dinning room.

    Ludwig sighed. They always fought. No matter what happened, two of his brother’s were always fighting.

    He finally broke free, exiting out into the garden where his three dogs were running a muck. He called them to him, and knelt down to received them.

    They licked his face and nuzzled him gently.

    “Hey,” he smiled. “There’s my boys.”

    He sat down, his dogs dispersing, except for Blackie, his German Shepard, who laid down beside him as he lit up.

    The blonde took in a long, deep breath, feeling a slight sting in his lungs, and smiled softly. Finally, he was at ease and able to relax a bit. His fingers scratched the top of Blackie’s head and he took in another drag.

    The small cigarette was suddenly snatched from his lips and he scowled up at his brother, Hesse.

    “Hey!”

    “Don’t look at me like that,” Hesse scoffed. “You’re lucky I don’t rat you out to the ‘Council of Elders’.”

    He sat down and took a very long, dragging breath to finish off the cigarette. 

       Ludwig scowled at the ground between his feet. The “Council of Elders” was the title given to the six first born sons, born as tribes in Germania’s time. That being Thuringia, Saxony, Franconia, Swabia, Bavaria and Prussia     They basically held the most authority over the family, and were currently bickering and arguing over what to do with Ludwig’s condition.

    He wish they would take their authority and shove it up their asses. 

    “I wish they would just shut up.” His voice was low and close to a growl.

    Nicklaus grunted with agreement. “Ja. We all agreed to stop fighting after you were born.” He sighed. “But it seems like they exempt themselves, or they seriously need to be reminded.”

    “Why after I was born?” Ludwig’s brow creased as he looked back to his brother.

    Hesse’s dark blue eyes glared at him. “Ludwig… Don’t.”

    Ludwig swallowed back his retort sourly, and glared at the ground again. Hesse was the most battle-hearted of his brothers. His soul and nerved were made of steel, and knew that Nicklaus could be down right scary. But still, Ludwig wanted to know and resentment blossomed in his heart.

    Suddenly, the German was stabbed by crippling pain in his gut. He doubled over, clutching at his sides and gasping for breath.

    “Ludwig?” Hesse loomed over him, his eyes wide with fear. He He turned back to the house and called, “Guys!”

    Ludwig had never seen Hesse so panicked or scared. It didn’t seem like him at all.

    “Look at me, Germany.”

    There we go.

    The blonde stared up into his brother’s battle-hardened eyes.

    The next five seconds moved so quickly and numbly that Ludwig barely noticed. Hesse tore open his cotton shirt, exposing a large, purplish-red blotch growing on his abs, just bellow his liver.

    “Ah, sheiße.” The battle-hardened German pulled a knife from his pocket and made a quick cut in Ludwig’s gut, right over the bruise.

    Blood suddenly gushed explosively and heavily from the wound at a rate that would make a zombie’s stomach growl.

    “Oh Gott…” Hesse’s voice was low and he started to look panicked again.

    “LUDWIG!”

    Prussia was suddenly beside Nicklaus, tears ran down his cheeks in silver lines. His eyes were filled with fear and panic as Bavaria and Franconia came beside him.

    Germany stared up at all of them, feeling a great pressure on his chest. He locked eye with Prussia and felt himself slip.

    And with that he blacked out.


	5. Chapter 5

 Mecklenburg sighed, standing in the doorway of Germany’s room, his arms folded over his chest. He sighed, his brow creasing as he watched his BabyBruder sleep deeply, blood leaking from his stomach. 

    “How is he?” Reuss, Mecklenberg’s twin, asked as he came to stand beside his shaggy haired brother. 

    “Worse,” Mecklenburg murmured and bit his lip. “It’s bad, Ingomar. I’m worried.”

    His identical twin sighed, his eyes finding the floor as he flicked his own shaggy hair from his eyes. “I think we all are.”

    “You don’t think it could be…?”

    Mecklenburg chewed on his lip, staring into the room like he was staring into space, contemplating the whole world. “I think so. He got worse soon after his fight with Linus.”

    “And even worse after the elder six were fighting,” Reuss concurred.

    “Not like their helping much.”

    “Preaching to the choir, Eberhard.”

    “Ja, ja.”

    “Jerks,” the blue-eyed twins said as one. Then they snorted and chuckled.

    Mecklenburg sighed and pushed off the frame. “He’ll be okay.”

    “He’s tough.”

    “Ja…”

    

    “Prussia…” Saxony sighed. “This isn’t helping.”

    The Prussian sniffed and wiped his weeping eyes. “I can’t lose him. Not another,” he croaked, his voice shaking. “Not again.”

    Varick sighed and swept back his long, platinum hair back. He sat down beside his fellow albino, his pale hands taking hold of Gilbert’s. “I know, Gil, but sitting here sulking is not going to help.”

    Prussia swallowed miserably, his eye glittering with more tears. He drew in a shaking breath, mustering the will to speak. “I raised him, Varick.  _Raised_  him. This is just more painful to me than with Holy Rome.”

    Saxony sighed. “I know.” He squeezed Gil’s white hands with his own. “But we need to be strong. For him.”

    Prussia inhaled slowly and stared at the carpet. “I think we should tell him…”

    Saxony’s violet eyes widened. “Prussia, I don’t know… It’s something we said we wouldn’t speak of… For  _his_  safety.”

    “But he wants to know, Varick! And it’s causing tension!” The younger albino was shaking, fear and panic quivering up his spine. Tears filled his red eyes and he shot up from his seat. “It’s what making him sick!” he plead. “Please!”

    “It’s too painful, Gilbert.” Saxony frowned. “I know it doesn’t seem like it know, but–“

    “He’s right, Sax.”

    Bavaria pushed off the archway of the dinning room and unfolded his arms. His royal blue eyes were full of guilt and turmoil, but held a strong conviction. “This secret has been kept long enough from das Kind.”

    Saxony licked his pale lips as his lilac eyes filling with agony. “I don’t know…”

    “He’s only going to get worse on this path,” Bavaria whispered.

    As if on que, Ludwig bursted from his room and rushed for the bathroom, a hand over his mouth. Reuss and Mecklenburg followed behind, their identical blue eyes exchanging worried glances.

        The three watched as the shaggy-haired twins disappeared into the washroom after Ludwig.

    Gilbert broke into sobs again.

    “Gil…” Bavaria sighed and came to sit beside him. He took the younger albino in his arms and kissed his head.

    “I  _can’t_ lose him.”

    “You won’t.”


	6. Chapter 6

     Ludwig winced, a sting sliding up his belly that made his body shiver with agony.

    “Sh,” Waldeck murmured and laid a hand on his corn-silk hair. 

    “Ja, ja,” Ludwig choked out as Waldeck’s twin, Prince-Bishopric of Münster, cleaned his bleed-pout hole and replaced the bandage.

    Another stab of pain worked its way up his nervous system and his leg twitched. 

    “Just hang in there,” Prince-Bishoporic whispered, wiping away blood just to have more replace it. 

    “Is it any better Hans?” Wadeck asked. 

    Hans looked down at the wound from behind his glasses and frowned.

    The wound had swollen furthered was now an angry red. The raw edges looked awful; a bit of puss collected in some places and were trying to scab in others. But that wasn’t the major issue. The major problem was Germany’s liver, who was bleeding profusely for no reason and from no particular place. 

    “No better,” Hans said as calmly as he could muster. 

    Waldeck chewed on the inside of his cheek. 

    “Don’t worry, Lars,” Ludwig breathed to his older brother. “I’ve been through worse.”

    Hans chuckled. “You’re such a little shit.”

    Ludwig snorted and groaned as a bit more blood oozed from the wound.

    “Almost done,” Hans murmured and quickly wiped away the blood before sticking on an adhesive bandage.

    The blood immediately stained the white cloth.

    Hans sighed and roughed up Ludwig’s hair. “Get some rest, du kleiner Scheiße.”

    Ludwig smiled up at Hand and Lars and watched as they left. He snuggled into his bed and closed his eyes… Just for a bit.

    

    “Preußen! Preußen!” The little German Empire called as he rushed through the bloody and crashing battlefield. He stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in a white jacket that reached his heels. It had golden embellishment on its cuffs and jacket flaps, showing off his high status, along with the white, feathered hat on his golden-head. 

    “Preußen!”

    Prussian soldiers, dressed in Prussian blue and brought red, yelled at him to get back, to return to the safety of the camp.

    “Nein!” he cried, pushing the, away with his tiny hands and kept running. “Preußen!”

    “Deutschland!”

    The little German stopped and looked around for his brother. He was panicked and scared as the crashes and bangs of spears, swords and guns surrounded and overwhelmed. Tears started down his cheeks as he began to tremble.

    “Preußen!”

    He was suddenly swept up into the air by a man in the finest of Prussian military uniforms, with a rose on his feathered hat. The albion grinned up at the small boy, his ruby eyes twinkling. “Kind…”

    Gilbert hugged the small boy to his chest. “Was machst du heir?”

    “I was scared,” the German Empire sniffed and snuggled into his brother. 

    “Ah, kleiner Bruder,” Prussia chucked softly. “You had me scared, too. You shouldn’t rush out into the battlefield like that. Wasn’t Anhalt watching you?”

    Ludwig curled further into Gilbert’s chest, unwilling admit that he had snuck away.

    The albino sighed and carried him across the way to his Generals’ tent.

    “Uh, Herr, das Kind…”

    “Dieses Kind is das Land du kämpfst für!”

    The tent went silent.

    It was just whispers for a while, as Ludwig was held against Prussia’s chest, until a cry startled the little boy.

    “Deutschland! Wo bist du?!”

    “Er ist mit mich heir!” Prussia called and sat the little blonde down on the planning table.

    The albino moved to greet a blonde man with chopped hair like his own and blue, sparkling eyes. He came running into the tent, and stopped, a hand on his chest and blew a sigh of heavy relief.

    “Gott, Sie danke!”

    He rushed over to Ludwig and threw him up in the before poking at his stomach. “You kleiner Sheiße, you!”

    Ludwig shrieked with laughter as he trying to protect himself from his brother’s tickles. 

    “Don’t you  _ever_  do that again!” Anhalt scolded. “Or the boogey man will get you! You little stinker!”

    “Ja, Torben,” Ludwig giggled. 

    Anhalt smiled down on the boy and held him close before singing the small German Empire to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

    Germany woke slowly, almost unwillingly, as his body began to ache again. He sighed, blinking his eyes clear and was surprised to see Schwarzburg sitting next to him.

    “You were dreaming,” he smiled softly, and ran a rough hand through Ludwig’s soft hair. “Weren’t you?”

    “Ja,” Germany murmured with a smile. “Was dreaming of when I ran out into battle for the first time… Away from Anhalt.”

    Schwarzburg chuckled. “Torben thought Gilbert was going to kill him.”

    Germany smiled. “But I was with Prussia the whole time.”

    “I think Hans is right, you are a kleiner Sheiße.”

    The blonde laughed, and rolled onto his back, feeling his wound pull away from the bandage and seeing it was still late at night. 

    Schwarzburg reached down and ringed out a cloth over a small bucket on the floor. He laid the cloth over Ludwig’s forehead and sighed. 

    “Another fever?” The blonde muttered. 

    His brother nodded solemnly. “It’s getting worse, Luddy. We may have to take you to the country specialist.”

    Ludwig groaned. 

    “Luddy…”

    “Shut up, Reiner.”

    The older brother sighed and scratched his scalp under his buzzed hair. “So… you took quite a beating, eh?”

    Ludwig shrugged. “Had worse.”

    “Please, Luddy,” Reiner sighed. “I know warfare, und I know the guilt of running a country like a tyranny. I know the hurt is there. Don’t lie to me.”  Ludwig rolled his eyes and stared at the wall. “It’s fine.”

    “Ludwig, it was  _you_  who is the country.  _You_  who sighed the papers.  _You_  who signed the papers that finalized the foreign policy, the battle plans, und the Final Solution. That includes what happened at Auschwitz, Ludwig. That guilt is laid on  _you._ Don’t lie to me.”

    The German nation sighed and rubbed his face. “Must we do this now, Schwarzburg? I just woke up.”

    The older German leaned forward in his chair. “Just tell me Ludwig.”

    Ludwig forced himself up and sighed. “The worst is what happened to Prussia. Because of me he lost his kingdom, then his country… Just everything. I… I hate that I had a hand in that, in his downfall, und even though he says he doesn’t blame me at all, I… I  _can’t_  accept it. I don’t think I ever will.” He dragged in a long breath and quickly wiped his tears from his cheeks.

    Reiner got up from his chair and moved to sit beside him on the bed. He rubbed his little brother’s shoulder. “Just let it all out.”

    “He lost everything,” Germany chewed on his lip, and began to sob. He leaned forward into Schwarzburg and buried his face in his shoulder. “Und it’s all because of me. My blind ambition and greed for revenge. I can still see the devastation and disappointment in his eyes. I can’t get it out of mein head.”

    “Hush,” Reiner murmured and hugged him tight, rubbing his back.

    “Und it was even worse when they tore us apart,” Ludwig managed, and lost his words in his tears. “I just…”

    His older brother just nodded and held him close while he cried. He rocked his Babybruder and kissed his head until he was finally asleep again.

    

    Germany was running again.

    He was a grown man, holding a gun while he hurried, panicked, through the battlefield of WWII. Tanks and artillery shot up plumes of dirt all around him as he ran full-steam ahead, dodging shot after shot. He didn’t know what he was running from, or what he was running to, but he kept running.

    Then a word stumbled from his lips.

    “Preußen… Preußen!”

    When no answer was given, his blood pressure shot up passed its already dangerous levels.

    “Verdammt es, Preußen! Antworte mich!”

    No reply again, and Germany’s heart freaked out. It raced and thudded against his breast bone as he surged forward once more.

    “Preußen!” He suddenly stopped. “Preußen…”

    A silver haired man laid in the mud, crestfallen and still.

    “Oh Gott…” Tears immediately started down his cheeks, creating lines in the dirt on his cheeks. He fell to his knees beside the body and gaped in horror. He dropped his gun into the mud, his heart humping in his ears, and cradled his brother’s body like a new-born. Disbelief shook him, but he couldn’t doubt what was right in front of him. He wiped the mud from Gilbert’s cheek and a horrid cry etched through the silence of the battlefield. 

    “GILBERT!”

    The Prussian gave no reply, and his eyes stayed stubbornly closed. His face was smooth and relaxed, almost like a child sleeping.

    But he was gone from the world, and it broke Germany’s heart.

    Germany heaved over, holding his brother close to his heart and resting his white hair on his shoulder. His cries were ugly and broken, cracking and straining.

    “Es tut mir lied!” he called out. “This is all my fault! I should have stayed beside you! Supported you! Gott, I’m so dumm! Es tut mir leid! Und I never got to say how much you meant to me. You raised me so well, und I can never thank you enough for it. You were my everything when I was young, und you are the only person who stood up for me. Thank you und ich liebe dich, Preußen. I always will…”

    The blonde stroked Prussia’s hair and let his tears fall into the mud…

    ………………………

    Ludwig sighed and stared at the grave with such melancholy and sorrow, that it broke many people’s hearts to see him in such a state. He knelt down in front of the grave, ordained with plastic poppies and blue cornflowers, and whispered a small prayer, even though he wasn’t religious.

    But Gilbert had been, and so in his honour, he prayed, like he had beexn for the past few years on November 11th.

    He brushed his fingers over the carved name and bit his lip as tears flooded his eyes. 

    “Gilbert… Bruder…” He choked out. “I’m so sorry…”

    

    Ludwig woke with a jolt, sitting up in bed, and covered in sweat. His cheeks were caked with tears and his chest heaved with quick, heavy pants that made his lungs burn. He hardly noticed, though, as he wiped the tears from his eyes and ran a shaking hand through his matted hair.

    The blonde threw the covers from his sickened body, ignoring all the pain in his muscles and the queasiness in his stomach, and got out of bed. He rushed out into the hall in his pyjama pants and cotton shirt, his heart panicking within his chest. His bare feet creaked across the old hard-wood floor, and he stopped at Gilbert’s door. 

    He slammed the door open, still massively worried and his chest burning and heaving.

    Gilbert was seated at his desk, too worried to sleep, and stared down at old photos. He jumped when the door slammed and swung around to find Ludwig in the  door way.

    “West?” The albino asked, seeing the tears on his brother’s cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

    Ludwig never gave him a straight answer. Instead, he met Gilbert half-way through the room and latched on. He hugged the albino tight, unwilling to let go and his knees weak. Broken sobs escaped his trembling lips as he buried his face in the Prussian’s shoulder.

    “I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked.

    “For what?” Prussia asked, stroking his golden hair.

    Ludwig stepped back and stared at his older brother. His brow creased with worry and confusion. 

    “For everything,” the blonde managed. “I took away your country. Your life. You raised my, and look at how I repay you!”

    “Ah, West,” Gilbert pulled him back in and kissed his head. “You did none of that. I brought it upon myself by stressing military doctrine. It was my fault, too.”

    “But–“

    “Sh.”

    “Just don’t ever leave me,” Ludwig gasped between cries, his tears unyielding. “I need you. I-I think I always will.”

    “I won’t, West,” Prussia whispered. “I promise.”

    “I was so scared you were dead. I worried every night since they carried you off.”

    “Ja…”

    Germany pulled back again, and locked his blue eyes to Gilbert’s ruby ones. “Ich liebe dich,” he murmured.

    Gil took the blonde’s face between his white hands and wiped his tears. “Ich liebe dich auch, West.”

    Ludwig broke to his knees and sobbed into his hands.

    Gilbert sighed, and knelt down next to his Babybruder. He rubbed his back and kissed his head. He offered up his comfort and support, watching as Germany cried.

    Eventually, the albion managed to get his brother back into bed, tucked in and tears dried.

    “C-can you sing for me?” Ludwig coughed, his lungs finally allowed a rest.

    Prussia smirked. “I though you said you were too old for that.”

    “Shut up and do it,” Germany commanded.

    The albino chuckled softly and began to sing German lullabies to the blonde, remembering the good and simpler times.


	8. Chapter 8

    “Guten Morgen,” was whispered to him before his eyes were even open. The smell of breakfast surrounded him, creating a warm blanket as he emerged from sleep. A gentle hand rubbed his back and he welcomed the soothing gesture.

    “Come get breakfast when you’re ready,” Brunswick murmured.

    Ludwig took his time waking, unwilling to leave the thralls of his bed and slumber. His body slowly eased him back into the ache he was now used to and rubbed his back. It felt so sore and stiff that it is was almost unbearable, but breakfast was calling and he rose to his feet and lumbered downstairs in his pyjamas.

    “Guten Morgen!” Bavaria boomed and spreads his arms wide into the air.

    There was the sudden sound of everyone setting down their plates, and soon Ludwig was swarmed by every single one of his brothers. Bavaria held him in a tight bear hug while the rest piled on.

    “It’s good to see you up,” Ingomar smiled once everyone had settled in the living room with their breakfast.

    “Well, I wasn’t allowed to before. Thanks to Hendrich over there.” Ludwig jerked his head toward his older brother.

    “It was for your own good,” Hans justified, authority ringing in his voice.

    “Ja, like how going to Russia’s house was “good” for us,” Meiningen muttered. 

    Everything went still and silent. Everyone was put off their food and set down their forks in a eery seriousness that made everyone uneasy.

    Thuringia laid a hand on Werner’s shoulder and gently squeezed. He bowed his head, letting his long, dirty blond hair falling to cover his face.

    “Can we just… not talk about this?” Weimar whispered, looked away from his food.

    “No,” Schwarzburg said firmly. “We need to. To clear the air. We’re brother’s for Gott’s sake.”

    Thuringia scratched at the thick stubble on his jaw. “Well, Prussia got the worst of it since he stood up for all of us.” He ran a quivering hand through his dark blonde hair. “But that guy is a real big pyshco. I don’t think I can remember a day where I wasn’t hungry.”

    “And there wasn’t any decent clothing against the cold.” Anhalt cussed. “Conrad nearly froze to death!”

    Gotha-Altenburg curled further into himself, remembering the cold, Siberian nights. “He was just waiting,” He murmured. “Waiting for us to die off in those gulags.”

    “To die from the labour,” Ingomar agreed.

    “To die from starvation,” Eberhard echoed.

    “Or of the harsh whippings,” Weimar chocked and wiped his blue eyes.

    Reiner took the blonde into his arms and stroked his short hair. “Hush, Wilhelm, you’re safe now.”

    “Are we?” Werner muttered bitterly. “Russia’s nuts and he’ll stop at nothing util we’re all under his control.”

    “I guarantee you’re all safe,” Ludwig promised. “None of you will ever be subjected to that again.”

    Thuringia smiled at him, his blue eyes soft with pride. His long hair, pulled back at the ears and dressed up with braids, swayed as he cocked his head a bit and his thin beard shifted.

    “That’s our Babybruder,” He murmured. “You brought him up well Gilbert.”

    “Ja…”

    “I’m just glad that Gilbert managed to escaped the gulags,” Brandenburg whispered.

    “I would be so pleased, Gunther,” Bjorn warned him.

    All eyes wondered to Prussia, and the expression on his face nearly broke Germany’s heart. The albino looked crestfallen and shamed to a point that no words could explain. His eyes grew wet with crystalline tears and threatened to spill over his porcelain eyelids.

    Saxony grabbed Gil’s shoulders and shook hi gently before pulling him into a long hug. “You’re safe now. You never have to see that place ever again.”

    “But you will have to see him at the meetings,” Ludwig mumbled.

    “Was?”

    “Well, I’m going to need you’re help for the new few decades,” the blonde replied. “I can’t do everything on my own.”

    The tears of pain turned to tears of joy in Prussia’s eyes as his lips twisted into a small smile. “Danke schörn, West, so sehr.”

    “Yup.” Bavaria said with finality. “That’s our Babybruder alright.” He grinned and wrapped an arm around Ludwig’s shoulders. He threw a few playful jogs into Ludwig’s side and the youngest suddenly doubled over in pain.

    “Germany?”

    Franconia was standing over him in an instant, and Gilbert was kneeling down in front, holding his Babybruder’s hands.

    Bavaria lifted the back of Ludwig’s shirt and got to his feet, his shaking hands covering his mouth. “Oh Gott…” he murmured. “I… I didn’t know… I…” Tears streamed down his cheeks like silver rivers as he baked away, ashamed and scared.

    Thuringia grabbed his shoulders and steadied him.

    Franconia lifted Germany’s shirt and took a look for himself as the nation gasped. The older german sighed and laid the shirt back down.

    “What’s wrong?” Prussia  asked. 

    Hendrich’s face was grim. “His kidneys are shutting down.”

    Alrich broke into sobs and retreated downstairs, his face still in his hands, and with Bjorn following a few steps behind him.

    The whole room was suddenly put off their breakfast and it felt as in a funeral was suddenly being held. Ludwig’s brothers were all silent and had solemn look on their faces. And Germany couldn’t make them feel any better.

    Brunswick got up from his seat and squeezed Prussia’s shoulder. “Do you want me to call her?”

    “Nein! Bitte, Josef!” Ludwig cried, suddenly panicked

    “She’s the only one who can help you, Ludwig,” Brunswick pointed out. “You know that.”

    “I can’t let her see me this way!” Ludwig begged, searching the room for support. “Please.”

    Saxony caught his eye with his narrowed violet ones and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ludwig…”

    “It’s okay,” Franconia announced, calming everyone in a easy swoop. “It’s not that bad, nothing a bit of rest and water won’t fix but you’ll have to go through a detox, Ludwig. I.e starving.”

    Germany groaned. 

    “That or I call her.”

    “Fine,” he growled and his shoulder’s sagged. “I just don’t want to worry her right now, or to see this.” His icy eyes stared down at his boney hands.

    “Understandable,” Hendrich assured. “But I have that opinion on standby if needed.”

    “Ja, ja.”

    “Just as along as you understand.”

    

    Ludwig groaned and gagged as he heaved himself over the porcelain bowl. His lungs struggled to bring in enough oxygen to keep his eyes open.

    Brandenburg was at his side, rubbing his back and fetching him water form time to time.

    It was surprising how much Gunther and Gilbert looked alike. Ludwig always thought they were twins growing up, but was told otherwise when he came of age. They had the same face shape and the same eyes, despite the difference in colour. They even had the same hair cut, except Brandenburg always slicked it back and left it loose at the ends.

    Germany vomited again and bright red fell into the bowl. 

    “Fuck,” he cursed.

    Gunther sighed and handed him a glass of water. “That’s another ulcer, Luddy. You’ve stuck this out for a week, it’s time to call her.”

    “Nein…” Germany plead weakly. “Bitte, Gunther.”

    “It’s been a week since you’re kidneys started shutting down, and you’ve been up every night with stomach problems from your ulcers. Enough is enough.”

    Ludwig drew in a shaking breath and held back his tears of defeat. He never thought it would get this bad, or that his brothers would be this worried.

    “Fine,” he croaked, his mouth sticky. The look in his eyes was one of utter defeat as his tears gave way. He felt as if his whole world was crumbling again, just like it had when WWII came to an end. He had wanted to press a gun to his head after Hitler had committed suicide and he had woken up to the horrors he had committed.

    Tear after tear fell onto the rim as he tried to wipe them away.

    “It’s not the end of the world, Babybruder,” Gunther murmured. “We’ll still be here in the end.”

    Ludwig sucked in a breath and huffed. “O-okay.”

    Brandenburg smiled a bit and rubbed Ludwig’s back gently. “It’ll be okay.” 


	9. Chapter 9

    Ludwig held back his tears as Swabia held his hand gently and stroked his golden hair. He had woken without use of his legs, and all he could feel from the waist down was numbness.The blonde broke into a panic and it took Saxony, Prussia and Brandenburg to calm him down to a state where he could breath again.

    “I’m scared, Runi,” he whispered up to Swabia. 

    The bearded man pursed his lips and kissed his head. “I know, kleiner Bruder. She’ll be here soon.”

    Germany shivered and let out a cry of pain as his nerves shot pain up his spine.

    His legs didn’t even twitch.

    Blackie whined and nuzzled Ludwig’s face.The German Shepard hadn’t left his master’s since the dawn had brought the horror of paralysation. 

    Berlitz, Germany’s doberman, was wrapped around his feet and keeping his master’s feet warm, while Aster, his golden retriever, was sitting by the fire.

    Ludwig shiver and trembled as his skin broke out into goose-bumps while his body continued to produce perspiration. 

    “Hey, Runi,” Thuringia murmured from the door. “Go get something to eat. I’ll sit with him for a while.”

    Runi nodded and got up from his seat, taking his leave to have Bjorn replace him.

    Thuringia sighed and let his long, messy locks fall free. Small braids framed his face and he jostled his hair a bit before sighing.

    “I remember when Prussia used to combed his hair over the side and put it in a knot on the crown of his head. It meant he was the strongest tribe, but Gott, I don’t know how he did it. I love having my hair free.”

    Ludwig snorted and smiled for the first time that day.

    Thuringia smiled warmly and kissed his head. “She’ll be here soon.”

    “I know,” Germany croaked. “How’s Alrich?”

    “Better,” Bjorn comforted. “Still shaken though.”

    Ludwig make the effort to nod, but started a coughing fit instead.

    His older brother sighed and patted his back gently until blood had stained the whites of the pillow case.

    Bjorn sighed and leaned down to rest his head on Ludwig’s.

    “I’m scared, too…” He breathed. “I don’t want to see another one of us die…”

    “W–what happened?” Germany’s voice trembled.

    “Prussia will have to explain it to you.”

    “Alright…”

    “I wish Vater was here,” Bjorn sighed. “He would know what to do.”

    “What was he like?” Ludwig asked. “Vater?”

    The elder chuckled lightly and stroked his little brother’s hair. “Fair, and kind, but he always look so stern and serious. He was for the most part, and people who didn’t know him well thought he was cruel, but in reality, he was just as sweet as you are. He was brave and protected his people when they needed it. And he loved us all…”

    “When did he die?”  
      
    “A few centuries before you were born.”

    Tears started out of Ludwig’s eyes. “I wish I had known him, even just for a little bit.”

    His brother fought back tears of his own. “I do, too. I miss him so much Ludwig.”

    They both began to sob quietly, Germany’s hands clutched tightly in Thuringia’s.

    “Ich liebe dich,” The older man whispered. 

    Ludwig only had the strength to nodded until another sob broke his chest.

    “Hush, kleiner Bruder…”

    Then the front door slammed shut.

    “Oh Gott, she’s here…”


	10. Chapter 10

    “I came as soon as I could,” A young woman huffed as she unwrapped the snow-covered scarf from around her neck. She shook the snow from her red, curly locks and blinked a few stray snowflakes from her emerald eyes.

    “Thanks Ireland,” Prussia hugged her gently.

    “How is he?” she asked as she reached into her book bag. She pulled a huge, ancient book of parchment, bound in curling leather and carved with Celtic knot work on the covers and spine. Along with it came a leather bound journal and turned back to the albino for an answer.

    “He’s getting pretty bad.”

    “Why didn’t he tell me anything?” she wondered as she stripped off her jacket and held back the panicked tears that were welling in his her eyes and paining her heart.

    “He didn’t want you to worry,” Gilbert explained, playing with his hands nervously. “He’s a Beilschmidt.”

    “Ja,” Franconia chimed from the top of the grand staircase. “Und more stubborn than the last.”

    Ireland sighed. “Is he in his room?”

    Prussia nodded. “Just be gentle.”

    “Always.” The red head hurried off, her ancient book and journal in her hands.

    She tiptoed into Ludwig's room, quietly opening the door to find him laying in bed, Bjorn at his side soothing him and comforting him as he felt ill.

    She frowned, seeing the horribly thinned gaunt of his cheeks and the boniness of his hands and arms. She sighed and went to him, sitting on the edge of the bed, and touched his hand.

    "Sweetheart," she murmured, “what has this war done to you?"

    "Awful things," Thuringia whispered, his eyes never leaving his little brother. "Can you help him?"

    Ireland nodded with confidence. “Most definitely."

    “Eiren…” Ludwig reached up and she leaned in to have her cheek resting in his hand. “Lieb…”

    "My darling love," the red head whispered back, holding his cold hand to her warm, freckled cheek. "How do you feel?"

    "I can't feel my legs," he told her.

    Ireland pursed her lips. "Try moving them for me."

    "I have been since you walked into the room," he murmured, his lips trembling.

    His legs hadn't moved an inch, and Berlitz was still curled around his feet.

    Blackie whined again and nudged Ludwig’s hand.

    Eiren frowned and gave the German Shepard a quick scratch behind the ears. "Ludwig, you stubborn arse, why did you let it get this far? You could have called me years ago and prevented all of this.”

    “I couldn't let you see me weak, Liebling,” Ludwig whispered, shame ringing clear in the back of his throat. "My pride was too wounded, and I just… I just didn't want to see what you thought of me after the war."

    "For the love of the Gods, Lud." Eiren's shoulders tensed for a second. "I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. Not war, or strife. I could have been here to support you and help you through the rough times." She sighed. "You really know how to frustrate me…"

    He chuckled a bit and winced as a cough seized him. Blood hit his sheets and he panted and groaned, his head spinning.

    Eiren sighed and sat him up. "Let's get you looked at so I can start the treatment."

    The blonde nodded and his trembling hands slowly unbuttoned his shirt, while Ireland shimmied off his PJ bottoms.

    "GODS! LUDWIG!"

    Ludwig winced, not from pain, but from fear. Ireland's temper could get worse than his, and she was completely unpredictable because of her violent past. He just didn't want to face that right now.

    Meanwhile, Eiren was in shock. Ludwig had loss so much weight that his collar bone and shoulder blades were sticking out and his knees were boney and thin. His hair and lost its lustre, and his eyes had dulled to a steel-blue. Bruises were rampant across his skin, but the worst by far were the two on his lower back. They had spread up his back and around his sides, making every move uncomfortable. Then there was the wound in his liver, and the three ulcers in his stomach that Hendrich had told her about.

    Ludwig swallowed and huffed, but what he feared the most never came. Instead, Ireland sat in the chair at his bed side, her huge book in her lap and her journal and a pen in her hands. She flipped through the huge book furiously, and took down notes in her journal.

    “What…?”

    "Hush," Saxony, who was had taken Thuringia's place by the fireplace. His nose was buried in a book, his reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose. “She knows what's she's doing.”

    Germany just sighed and watched for hours as his beloved worked tirelessly for him.

    Eventually he began to yawn, and he curled back up in new covers and fell asleep.

    When Eiren was done, she smiled down upon here blonde nation and kissed his head before leaving the room and heading to the kitchen.

    Then, she began the real work.

    

    "Give him the first brew in the morning, it'll help his nerves get back online," Eiren told Prussia. "Then the second one at bed time, it'll help with the cell re-gen he needs to heal completely."

    Prussia nodded, and looked to Franconia, who was writing all of it down.

    "We owe you one, Frau," Gil smiled. "Danke."

    "Of course," Eiren smiled. "Call me to let me know it's working."

    "Your herbal brews always work," Hendrich remarked, removing his glasses from his eyes. "But if you just want an excuse to talk to our little brother… Alright, we'll call you."

    Ireland blushed and smiled gently.

    "But seriously," Hendrich whispered gently, "thank you. I don't think he would have lasted much longer without you.”

    Ireland sighed and wrapped herself up in her winter clothes. "Just keep me updated… And tell him I love him."

    “Of course,” Gilbert smiled and waved at her as she stepped out the door, her fiery hair swirling in the snow.

    

    Ludwig stretched and smiled as his joints cracked with relief.

    "Ah," he sighed, “that's better."

    Though he still had a hard cough and a bit of queasiness, he was feeling better over all. His legs were in use again after just one night with Ireland's brew in his system and he could feel his muscles growing stronger once again. But he still didn't feel the unity or teutonic strength he had felt before the war, and that worried him.

    He dismissed it for now and headed downstairs for breakfast.

    “Guten Morgen,” he greeted his brothers.

    “He’s up!” Westphalia exclaimed and the rest raised their glasses.

    “That stuff Ireland made really works,” Schleswig remarked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head and stretching out his legs. “Might have to try some myself.”

    “Ja, ja, Helge.” Bremen chuckled. “Like you could handle it.”

    “At least is works well,” Holstein smiled, relief heavying his words. He finger-combed his chin-length, dirty blonde hair and his dark blue eyes twinkling for the first time in a while. “I still can’t figure out how she does it.”

    “Druidism,” Saxony replied curtly. “It’s her trade and favourite hobby.”

    “She invented the damn craft,” Bavaria butted in. “Und she’s got a fire in her belly for it.”

    “That she does,” Franconia concurred, setting down Ludwig’s tea on the breakfast bar. “There you go Ludwig.”

    Germany wandered over and took the warm cup in his hands, smiling as the warmth spread into his hands. He took as sip and felt a warmth in his stomach that moved through his legs and sent a good tingle up his spine.

    “Wow…” he breathed.

    “She also says that she loves you.”

    The blonde’s cheeks were suddenly red and his eyes felt as if they were on fire.

    Snickers and snorts chorused among the Germans as Ludwig blushes  and grumbled under his breath as he drank his tea.

    But, there was a comfortable ease among them again and they were staring to feel more connected than ever before.

    A knock as the door broke the quiet calm, and everyone waited anxiously as Hamburg got up to open the door.

    “Hallo–“ Shock suddenly threw him back, stumbling and reaching out for support. His eyes flew wide and his mouth gaped open. “No way…”

    A man stepped in from the blizzarding conditions outside, wrapped in wolf furs as snow swirled around him. Even his head was wrapped in furs that covered most of his pale face, and everyone fell silent as the man pulled off his cap.

    Long, cornsilk hair spilled over his broad shoulders and his large chest huffed. “Gotts, it’s cold!”

    “V-Vater?” Prussia stammered, rising from his seat.

    Germania quickly pulled off his gloves and hugged his second albino son. He kissed Gilbert’s hair and patted his cheek.

    “My boy…” He smiled. “Where is he?”

    Germany got to his feet again, dressed in his t-shirt and checkered pants. “Right here.”

    A stillness fell over the entire world. No one moved, and Ludwig felt as if it was only his and his father who existed in that moment. The locked icy eyes and in a few heart-beats a deep understanding was established. And in an instant, Ludwig understood everything. He understood where his roots were and how all he stood for came to be. He suddenly understood where his family got the broad and foreboding stature and where he got his mannerisms and idioms. He knew were he came from and what he was standing for again.

    “My son…” Germania rushed him and scooped up his youngest son in a strong hug. “Danke Odin.”

    He took Ludwig’s face between his cool hands and kissed his forehead. “You look so much better.”

    Tears spilled over Ludwig’s cheeks. “I knew you were watching.”

    “Of course,” Germania weakly smiled, overcome with joy. “Ever since you were born. Who do you think saved you all those times on the battlefield?”

    Ludwig chuckled as more tears twinkled down his cheeks.

    “Pile on!” Bavaria announced and the two men were soon surrounded by family.


	11. Chapter 11

    Ludwig dried his hair and slipped into a new pair of pjs. He breathed in the steam, letting it soothe his lungs before heading down stairs in his house robe.

    He couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried, his body wouldn’t relax and he decided to have a shower.

    He brewed a pot of coffee for himself and sighed as he stirred cream into his cup.

    “Poor me a cup,” Prussia murmured, coming in from the foyer. 

    “Es tut mir leid, Bruder,” Germany murmured, pouring another cup of coffee. “I didn’t think I woke anyone.”

    “You didn’t,” Prussia said, taking the cup. “I was awake anyway. Couldn’t sleep.”

    “That make two of us,” Ludwig chuckled. 

    Prussia smiled and they both made their way to living room.

    “So you both can’t sleep?” Germania asked from the top of the stair, his arms folded over his chest.

    The two brother looked at each other and back to their father.

    “Nein, Vater,” Prussia answered. “Wir können nicht schlafen.”

    Germania nodded and came down the stairs, dressed only to the waist and showing off the pale scars on his chest and back. His one braid swayed as he made his way down and kissed both his sons on the head.

    Gilbert sighed. “I think we should talk about something Ludwig.”

    Germania nodded in apprroval.

    “Holy Rome?” The youngest asked.

    “Ja…”

    Ludwig took in a deep breath. “Okay, komme.” He lead them into the living room and sat down on the couch, Prussia sitting beside him.

    “Are you coming to sit, Vater?”

    “In a minute.” Germania disappeared and returned with a box of tissues and glasses of water for all three of them. “I think we’ll be needed these.”

    Prussia nodded and looked to his hands. “Well… When we first united, Austria was the one who held power, and, he… well, he’s our cousin, and their was a rivalry right from the start. It got heated between him und I und the elder six of us about what to do; let him continue to lead us, or let me take over. Wars broke out und we brothers were fighting und arguing und just hating each other. It made Holy Rome sick _._ Und I mean  _sick._  At first, we didn’t understand und we kept fighting amongst ourselves. It wasn’t until it was  _too_ late that we realized that it was use who was causing the illness with the disunity between us. He was already where you were when France und Austria dealt the final blows und dissolved his country, und we all watched him slowly die. After that…” Prussia paused to sniffed and wiped the tears from his porcelain cheeks. “We were devastated. We offered Napoleon no resistance until later on, und soon you were born. Then und there, we promised never to fight or argue amongst ourselves, in fear we would lose you to the same fate.

    “Then there were the wars, und I worked tirelessly to protect you, but it backfired und you took the brunt. When they split us at the end, I freaked out. I would sneak out in the middle of the night to go to the wall and check up on you. I was so worried, Ludwig. You have have no idea. We didn't tell you for so long, because we thought you would hate us. We were the reason he died, and we didn't want you to think that we would do the same to you. Bitte, don't hate me, Ludwig. Bitte. We just didn't want to hurt you. We didn't want to lose you in anyway. Wir lieben dich zu veil.”

    The albino looked up at his little brother, his eyes searching for acceptance.

    “Bruder…” Germany sighed. He took Prussia into his arms and held him tight. 

    Prussia lips trembled and he let his sobs take him.

    Germania moved to be sit behind Prussia and stroked his hair. “Mein Sohn… Sh…”

    “Es tut mir leid,” Prussia gasped. “I never wanted this to happen.”

    “He doesn’t blame you, Prussia,” Germania soothed. “I promise you that.”

    Prussia nodded weakly and cried into his little brother’s shoulder.

    “Ich liebe dich, Gilbert,” Ludwig promised. “No matter what.”

    They calmed Prussia down, and Ludwig finally understood why his brothers were so over-protective. He understood their worry and that they also loved him more than words could express.

    Not even ‘ich liebe dich’ could sum it up. And Ludwig knew it would never be able to.

    Eventually, the two grew weary and curled up on the couches. Germania smiled and covered them both in warm blankets before going back to bed himself.

    

    “So you two are camping out of the couch now?” Soren  raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

    Ludwig groaned and rolled back over. “Go away Schaumburg…” He covered his head and shooed him away.

    Soren sighed. “Well, it can’t be helped…”

    Suddenly something cold slid down the back of his next and Germany was wide awake as he jumped up front the couch.

    The ice cube raced down his back and he growled out, swinging around just as Westphalia skidded away, snickering.

    “Stefan!” Ludwig bellowed, leaping off the couch to chase after him. “When I get my hands on you…!”

    Gil shot up soon after, after getting the same treatment from Reuss and Mecklenburg, and chased after them into the freshly fallen snow.

    Germany managed to tackle Stefan just before the back door and soon was assaulted by Hamburg and Palatine. Both attacked his ticklish spots without mercy and Ludwig was reduced to tears.

    “Nein!” he cried. “Deirk! Othmar! Halte!”

    Prussia was having more luck, pummelling his younger brothers with snowballs. He laughed manically as he scooped up the snow and brought his brothers to their knees.

    “You can’t beat mein awesomeness!” he cackled and pelted Ignomar in the back of the head.

    “Back up!” the shaggy hair man cried and Württemburg, Brunswick and Würzburg both dashed out the rescue.

    “Nein!” Gil cried. “Guther!”

    And with that Brandenburg joined in and the German Snowball War had began. It took hours for it to end, and Prussia and Germany were on the side that dominated. 

    The albino noogied the blonde and laughed. “You were awesome Bruder! What is their punishment for defying us?”

    “They have to clean the whole house und cook dinner.”

    “You despicable,” Würzburg grumbled.

    “Und don’t you forget it, Rudi,” Prussia smirked and returned his brother inside.

    “Looks like you two had fun,” Germania commented as he gave Ludwig his tea.

    “You should have seen him, Vati!” Conrad cheered. “He took down Bjorn  _und_  Varick with just one snowball!”

    Germania chuckled. “You boys have too much fun sometimes.”

    “Nah,” Alrick waved dismissively. “You’re egagerating.”

    “Perhaps,” Germania agreed, “But it’s good to see you all smiling.”

    Ludwig had to agree. In the past few weeks, he had felt more connected with his twenty-nine brothers then ever before. And now he felt ever better now that he understood why they had always been so over-protective and now that the family secret was no longer being kept from him. His lungs had opened up and he finally knew that he was going to be just fine.

    “So…” Lars whistled. “Camp out in the living room tonight?”

    “JA!”

    “Und we have to watch the Brother’s Grimm,” Eberhard smiled.

    “Definitely!”

    Ja, everything was going to be just fine.


	12. Beilschmidt Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A list of all of the German states before unification.

    Thuringia, among the first of his sons. Was originally a tribe within Germania recorded by Gaius Cornelius Tacitus in 98AD, and became a duchy in 631AD. I have given him the name Björn. Long, dirty blond hair, pulled back at the ears and small braids in some places and blue eyes. Stubble present on his jaw and upper lip. Think Thor 2 Thor. Ja, that Thor. Has a scar on the corner of his lip; right side.

        

    Saxony is another one of the first sons, born as a tribe near Denmark and recorded by Tacitus in 98AD. Became a duchy in 804AD and possibly has two sons: Saxe-Lauenburg and Saxe-Wittenburg, both formed in 1296AD. I have given him the name Varick. Albino with long, platinum blonde hair and pale violet-pink eyes.

        

    Franconia, another among the first sons. Born as the Chatti tribe in 98AD and emerged as a duchy in 906AD. He made up as the heartland of East Frankia. I have given him the name Heinrich. Long blonde hair, braided up tightly and blue-grey eyes.

        

    Swabia first started out as the Alemanni tribe in Germania, recorded by Tacitus in 98AD and emerged as a duchy in 911AD, during the Frankish Empire. I have given him the name Runi. Cropped blonde hair and a thick golden beard.

        

    Bavaria, among the first of Germania's sons. He first emerged after the destruction of the Rugii tribe in 487AD  by the romans as Bavarii, and soon became a kingdom in 551AD. He could possibly be the Rugii, his people being the survivors. I have given him the name Alrich. Short, spiky blonde hair and royal blue eyes.

        

    Prussia, Gilbert Beilschmidt, mostly likely born before 98 AD as a tribe in East Germania (according to Tacitus) and became Teutonic Order in 1224AD. Albino. Ruby red eyes and silvery-white hair.

            

    The kingdom of Germany is an odd subject. This is not the tall blonde German we Hetalians know, or that is what I have been lead to believe. This Kingdom was formed from East Frankia, officially started in 876 AD, and became the Holy Roman Empire in 962. But this can also support the theory that Germany is HRE.

        

    Bremen, I have named Arne, emerged in 787.

  
    Holstein emerges as a duchy in 811AD, this is possibly his birth year as well. I have given him the name Lukas. Chin-length, dirty blonde hair and dark blue eyes.

    

    Hamburg, I have named Deirk, emerged in 834.

        

    The Holy Roman Empire 962AD, formerly known as the Kingdom of Germany. He is to believed fallen after the Thirty Years War and was sick before because of the lack of unity among his brother states.

        

    Brandenburg, I have named Guther, emerged in 940AD after the Saxon Wars. Slicked back, blonde hair with lose ends. Looks a great deal like Prussia.

        

    Reuss, I have named Ingomar, and Mecklenburg, I have named Eberhard. Both emerged in 1000AD. Identical twins. Shaggy blonde hair, with slight curls at the ends and fond of hats.

        

    Schleswig, I have named Helge, emerged in 1058.

     ****

Württemburg, I have named Luca, emerged in 1083AD. Silvery-blue eyes with short, wavy blonde hair.

    

    Palatine, I have named Othmar, emerged in 1085

        

    Oldenburg, I have named Boris, emerged in 1091AD. Short blonde hair and midnight blue eyes.

        

    Schaumburg, I have named Soren, emerged in 1110AD. Wavy blonde hair.

        

    Baden, I have named Markus, emerged in 1112AD. Short, blonde hair and parted on the side.

        

    Lippe, I have named Linus, emerged during 1123AD. Long, wavy hair.

    Schwarzburg, I have named Reiner, emerged in 1160AD. Military cropped hair.

        

    Würzburg, I have named Rudi, emerged in 1168AD. Shaggy, banged hair.

        

    Waldeck, I have named Lars, and Prince-Bishopria of Münster, I have named Hans, both emerged in 1180AD. Identical twins, with typical male hair cut.

        

    Anhalt, I have named Torben, emerged in 1212AD.

        

    Brunswick, I have named Josef, emerged in 1235AD.

        

    Hesse, I have named Nicklaus, emerged in 1264AD. Dark blonde hair, brought up in a folded ponytail. Blue eyes with silver around the pupil and a scar down the left side of his face from his brow to chin.

        

    Weimar, I have named Wilhelm, emerged 1572AD.

        

    Gotha-Altenburg, I have named Conrad, emerged in 1602AD.

        

    Meiningen, I have named Werner, emerged 1680AD.

 

    Westphalia, I have named Steffan, emerged in 1807.

    

    Finally, Germany, formed by Prussia when he unified his bro  
thers in 1815, creating the German Confederation, also known as Germany and Ludwig Beilschmidt. Slicked back blonde hair and icy blue eyes.


End file.
